Grem stepped into his mansion, somewhat hunched over, and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Even though he was a retired S-Rank adventurer, the Azera Guild Hall wanted him to help out with a few things due to his reputation. He’s always hated bureaucratic nonsense, but unfortunately, that was something the Guild Hall was known for. He kicked off his boots and hung up his favorite brown coat on the coat rack…and then realized a nice smell wafting through the halls. It was rich, buttery, with a hint of herbs. There was no doubt that it was the cause of his grumbling stomach.

  He followed the scent toward the kitchen and pushed open the door.

  Celia stood at the stove, her golden hair tied up into a loose bun, stray strands curling near her pointy ears. She wore a long-sleeved white dress, the fabric snug around her rge chest and wide waist, flowing gently past her hips. A brown apron hugged her figure, its tautness emphasizing the shape of her behind. The sleeves of her dress were slightly rolled up, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her forearms. The warmth of the kitchen made a faint sheen glisten on her colrbone as she hummed a calming tune. She stirred a simmering pot with one hand, the other reaching for a bundle of herbs.

  It was a peaceful scene, until Grem almost tripped himself on the corner of the entrance.

  Celia spun around, eyes wide. "Aah!" She jerked back, nearly knocking over the pot.

  "Whoa, whoa!" Grem rushed forward, steadying her by the shoulders. "It's just me!"

  She blinked, pressing a hand to her chest. "G-Grem! You scared me!"

  “Sorry~” He rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn’t think I was that quiet…"

  She huffed, lips pouting. "Maybe I'm just too focused on making you a proper meal."

  Grem gnced at the pot. "Smells amazing. What is it?"

  Celia turned back to her cooking, her voice pyful. "A surprise. Now, sit down and behave." With a chuckle, Grem pulled out a chair. Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all.

  But then, a loud thud echoed from upstairs. Then a crash. Then muffled shouting. Grem sighed, already knowing where this was going. The commotion grew louder, footsteps pounding down the hall, then the stairs, each impact rattling the wooden floors.

  Celia barely gnced over her shoulder. "Do you want to intervene or just let nature take its course?"

  "Let's see where this goes," Grem muttered.

  The kitchen door burst open, and stormed two elven girls that looked simir to Celia.

  Alya stood at the front with her hands neatly folded in front of her, her deep blue eyes flickering behind thin-rimmed gsses. Her soft, straight blonde hair fell past her shoulders, her blunt bangs perfectly even just above her brows. The navy blue top of her uniform, courtesy of the Azera Academy for the Gifted, hugged her ample chest; the white pleated skirt swayed slightly as she shifted on her feet. She wore pristine white stockings e that clung tightly to her thick thighs, making her already striking presence even more refined. Despite her shy demeanor, she carried herself with quiet dignity—until something flustered her, of course. "Father," she huffed, adjusting her gsses, "you need to settle this. Viena is being ridiculous."

  Viena, on the other hand, radiated confidence. Her long, straight blonde hair was parted down the middle, a silver hair ornament gleaming near her temple. Her deep blue eyes, sharp and commanding, held a look of mild amusement as she observed her surroundings. She had a simir build to her sister. The navy blue academy uniform fit snugly around her torso, the crisp white pleated skirt stopping just above her thighs. Unlike Alya, her legs were bare, her stance firm and warrior-like. Even in the refined academy attire, she carried herself like a noble woman—graceful, yet always prepared for confrontation. "Ridiculous? You're the one who refuses to accept logic, Alya."

  Grem let out a soft sigh, trying his best not to ugh at the 20th argument his daughters have had today. "What is it this time?"

  Viena pointed at Alya. "She insists that I ate her slice of strawberry cake she had! I didn’t even do it!"

  Alya scoffed. "Yes you did! Your tie was left near the pte. It couldn’t have been anyone else but you!"

  “First of all, you know I always leave my tie there after school.” Viena groaned. "Also, I don’t like strawberries! It tastes worse than Mother’s medicine! Why would I even eat it?!"

  "W-what did you say about strawberries?!"

  "Enough, enough. Just… rex, both of you." Grem held up both hands. “I’ll get you a new cake tomorrow, Alya. I have some work near the bakery. And Viena? I’ll get a chocote fvored one for you.”

  “Chocote? You know me too well, Father.” Viena let out an exasperated sigh. “Happy now, Alya?”

  Alya fiddled with her fingers and blushed. “T-Thank you Father.”

  Celia chuckled softly at the scene, stirring her pot one final time. She then gnced over her shoulder. “Girls, sit down and get ready for dinner.” Alya and Viena exchanged a gre before reluctantly taking their seats at the table. Grem exhaled, gd for a moment of peace until…

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  He turned toward the front door, brows furrowing. “Who’s showing up this te?”

  Celia smiled as she set the pot and a few pieces of freshly made bread on the dining table.“If it’s someone trying to sell you their carriage again, don’t entertain them.”

  Grem grumbled as he walked down the hall to the front door. When he opened it, no one seemed to be there, until he looked down.

  Standing there, arms crossed, was a little girl with tan skin. She barely reached his waist, draped in an elegant bck gown with silver embroidery. Two bat-like wings twitched behind her, and a single sharp demon horn jutted from the right side of her forehead. Her blood-red eyes gleamed with mischief, and her small fangs peeked out as she grinned up at him.

  “Baelze?” Grem muttere, instantly recognizing the gremlin. “I-I thought you were—”

  Before he could finish, she yanked out a gss vial filled with swirling violet liquid.

  “REVENGE HAHAHAHA!” she screeched, hurling the potion at his face. The liquid spshed over him, soaking into his skin with a strange, tingling sensation.

  Grem staggered back, coughing. “What the—?!”

  Baelze let out a triumphant ugh, fpping her wings. “That’s for destroying my castle, you meddling brute!” Then, with a gust of air, she unched herself into the sky. “I hope you enjoy my little gift, legendary adventurer! AHAHAHAHA!” She continued to ugh until she choked on her own spit, and vanished into the night sky.

  Grem stood there, drenched, the strange sensation now spreading through his body. His stomach turned. His limbs tingled. What the hell was that potion?! Grem took off after Baelze at full speed. "Get back here, you little—!"

  But something was wrong. The world around him felt… bigger. The front yard stretched, the common ndmarks of trees and flower gardens were now wider apart. His arms and legs moved sluggishly, clumsy and uncoordinated. Why did his tunic feel so loose? His boots—where the hell were his boots?!

  Then it hit him.

  He skidded to a stop, panting. His hands were small. His sleeves were too long. And his voice—was higher.

  His stomach twisted, and slowly slowly, he turned back.

  Standing there, looming over him like giants, were Celia, Alya, and Viena. Grem craned his neck, staring up at the three towering figures before him.

  Celia stood closest, her tall, curvaceous frame nearly overwhelming his tiny form. She took a hesitant step forward, her full lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t trust what she was seeing. Her appearance made her look more like a worried mother than his wife at that moment. “Oh my~”

  Viena stood right beside her mother with one hand on her hip, her other hand gripping the hilt of her practice sword. Her lips curled into a wicked grin, her blue eyes fshing with amusement. “Oh hello.” she said, leaning down to the little boy in front of her. “Mother, do you happen to know of a lost child?”

  Alya, standing just behind Viena, looked utterly frozen. Her deep blue eyes flickered with shock behind her gsses, her mouth slightly agape. She clutched the edges of her skirt, her fingers trembling as she took in the sight of him. “F-Father…?” she whispered.

  Grem felt his tiny fists clench. His tunic and pants practically hung off his shrunken frame, his boots nowhere to be seen. He barely reached his daughter’s waists now.

  If anything, he knew his long awaited break wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.